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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] pressure-filled a situation for Becca to be acting in such an unprofessional never mind uncharacteristic way. Which was precisely his point, he supposed, in a long, roundabout way. Stress and pressure. They went together like peanut butter and jelly, only not so tasty. Becca s behavior had to be a result of how hard they d both been working lately. That was the only explanation that made any sense. So that had to be it. It had to. But what if it wasn t? Turner had no choice but to consider that possibility. Because maybe, just maybe, Becca s sudden, vehement attraction to him wasn t the result of stress or pressure. Maybe, just maybe, it was the result of feelings she d had for him for a long time that, for whatever reason, she d finally decided to reveal. Maybe it was the stress and pressure bringing those feelings to the fore. It had happened twice now. And even though she was swearing it wasn t what she wanted, she was the one who kept doing it. And doing it so well. Bottom line, he thought. What was the bottom line? The bottom line was that Becca wanted to get sexual with him today. There wasn t any way he could deny that. And he wanted to get sexual with Becca, too. Today or any day. That was the bottom line. Maybe the reasons didn t matter, he told himself. Maybe all that mattered was that they both wanted the same thing for a change. Why was he trying to fight it? This was what he d wanted for as long as he could remember. And he knew Becca well enough to be certain that she only got sexual with a guy when she cared about him. Emotionally. So if she was coming on to Turner, it was because she had come to care for him in a way that went deeper than the way she d cared for him before. And when all was said and done, what difference did it make what the reason for that was? Becca wanted Turner. Turner wanted Becca. He didn t need to know any more than that. He glanced up from his musings to see that he had driven halfway to Becca s apartment without even paying attention to where he was going. His subconscious, at least, knew what was what. Still, he was dressed in his work clothes, and he hadn t had lunch. Becca probably hadn t, either. So he decided that instead of going straight to her place, he d go home first and change clothes. Maybe even pack a few things for the night. Then he d stop by their favorite deli and grab some stuff to go. Becca had been awfully adamant earlier in voicing her needs. Turner s needs were no less demanding. What he had in mind for the rest of the day and night was going to require a lot of stamina. And that meant refueling. Once he entered Becca s apartment, he didn t want to leave again for a long, long time. So maybe a few provisions were in order before he arrived. He smiled as he made an illegal U-turn to take him back to his place so he could change into something more comfortable. Something that would take less time for Becca to remove. Too bad Bluestocking didn t make underwear for men, since it might have been kind of fun to see where that led. Ah, well. Becca had taken all those samples home with her, so he d still be able to enjoy their newest client s products. As long as it took for Becca to strip them off, anyway. Oh, yeah, he thought as he pulled into his parking space outside his apartment building. He had big plans for Becca s underthings once he got to Becca s house. And he had even bigger plans for Becca. 7 BECCA AWOKE FEELING disoriented and confused, and wondering what the racket was that had caused her to wake up. Her bedroom wasn t fully dark the way it would be at night, but the blinds were drawn, and what little light did get through indicated it was late in the afternoon and not a sunny day. What was she doing sleeping in the afternoon? she wondered groggily as she pushed a long strand of hair out of her eyes. The last thing she remembered was Oh, God. Her hand stilled in the process of nudging her hair over her shoulder, and she closed her eyes again though not because she was sleepy this time. The pitch to the Bluestocking people. She remembered that she and Turner had given it that morning, and that it had gone extremely well. And then& Oh, God. And then Becca remembered being suddenly and inexplicably turned on. So turned on that she hadn t been able to stand it. And she hadn t wanted just anyone. She d wanted Turner. The same way she had wanted him Wednesday night when they d stayed late to work on the pitch: thoroughly. Completely. Obsessively. Immediately. Oh, God& What the hell was going on? she asked herself as the racket started up again, and she recognized it as someone pounding on her front door. Turner, she knew. Because she also remembered how he had dragged her out into the hallway, and how shamelessly she d thrown herself at him, and how ruthlessly she d pawed him and how adamantly she d shoved her tongue into his mouth. And she remembered, too, how she had made him promise to come to her house after he d finished the meeting, and how she d compelled him to touch her so intimately before she would leave. Oh, God& Why had she done such a thing? How could she have behaved in such a way? Especially after just telling Turner something like that would never happen again? How could she have been so completely overcome by one emotion, to the utter exclusion of all others? And not just any emotion, either, but pure, unadulterated lust. For a man she d always considered her best friend, the one man she had always vowed she would not have sex with. And not just once had this happened, but twice now. To the point where she had endangered not only her relationship with Turner, but her job and his, too. How had such a thing happened? Stress, she told herself instantly as she pushed herself to sitting and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Even as she uttered the explanation to herself, though, she knew it was pretty lame. But what else could it be? People reacted to stressful situations in different ways often in ways that were so not beneficial, and sometimes in ways that were downright self-destructive. Some people drank. Some people smoked. Some overate. Some became irritable. Some bit their nails. Some had sex? Was that really possible? Becca wondered as she [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |